heartbeat
by Extrinsical
Summary: when something knocks you out for three weeks straight. Post-manga.
1. Jadeite

(Edit 08/06/13: This is no longer a one-shot but a mini series)

Part I | Jadeite | 3261 words  
Post-manga story. There will be spoilers to some degree. Unbeta-ed.  
Theme song: FFVII Crosis Core - _The Price of Freedom._

_._

_.  
_

_.  
_

_**heartbeat**_  
_(he looked for her, but she's the one who reaches out to him.)_

. .

1.

"Sometimes...sometimes I dream."

"Dream?"

_A haunting image. A girl. Woman. A backdrop of dark orange and yellow, dry canyons and a setting sun that colors long black hair a vibrant reddish hue. He doesn't know what she looks like, she's facing away from him, and then it's white white white _–

A hand on his shoulder.

"Hey."

He shudders out a breath, and looks up.

Green eyes, not quite dark, not quite pale, eyes him pensively.

"Are you okay?" his roommate asks.

He breathes in, and leans back against the leather sofa.

The dream rewinds and plays again in his mind.

"When I know the color of her eyes," he says to the companion that he doesn't know was a comrade for a thousand years and over, "I will be."

. .

2.

His memories returns, and it knocks him out for three week straight.

It's a good thing he's an orphan, because if the idea of his friends looking at him worriedly makes him sick to the bone, he thinks he might just throw up if his family – _Kunzite Nephrite Zoisite Endy Endy __**Endy**_–is there to watch him lay unconscious, because _fuck_ if he even _deserves _it –

He spends the next three weeks being dragged home from the bar by his roommate, all worried green eyes and curly blond hair and a shadow of his comrade and brother – _traitor traitor traitor_– because he's too drunk to move.

He spends a week contemplating slicing his own neck with the sword – _Jadeite's _sword – that he suddenly knows how to materialize without ever having done it before in this life.

On the seventh week, his roommate socks him on the face with a gangly fist and breaks his nose.

And by the end of those two months, he begins his search with a bandage taped to his swollen nose and curses thrown at his roommate.

. .

3.

He doesn't know why it feels so strange that the first person (that he knows from a millennium ago) he meets is a woman named Kino Makoto, or otherwise known as Sailor Jupiter, at a quaint little cafe that he later realizes is hers.

She eyes him with astonishment and wariness and curiosity. She also looks more than a little confused, and somewhat hostile.

He hasn't decided if she remembers most of her former life, or only some of it, because the conversation they are having is strangely civil, much to his own disbelief.

When she places a cup of coffee before him, with a pattern of a tree branch on its brown frothing, he stares at her in question even as she unceremoniously sits across him with crossed legs and chin resting on clasped hands.

She quirks a brow, and the expression in her eyes is a mix of wry amusement and challenge.

"It's not poisoned," she tells him, tone teasing.

Despite himself, he smiles, too, and reaches for the cup.

It's slightly sweet and mostly bitter, but the comforting warmth that pools in his stomach makes him feel a little lighter, even if he's still more than a little bewildered by how _normal_ everything between them is. Is this really _Jupiter_ he is talking to? The steely Jupiter, who felled foes with barely glancing blows, with electricity that crackled all over her, with eyes and expressions that promises death to those who hurt her princess and loved ones –

He thinks that she would have at least beat him half to death before deciding to hear what he has to say for himself.

Which is why he can't stop himself from asking.

"Why are you doing this, Kino-san?"

The hidden question – _why aren't you condemning me? _– lurks in the air.

Makoto's eyes grow shadowed, and her gaze this time is both dark and contemplative with memory.

He sees her clasped hands tighten, nails digging into white skin.

"I know how it feels like," she says quietly, "to have betrayed my princess, to hurt her, and to make her cry."

He's astounded, and it shows.

"How?" he asks, and it's almost a croak.

"Sailor Galaxia happened." She smiles a sad smile, and there's a play of guilt and _darkness _hidden beneath her words that reminds him of his own.

Questions bubbles at the back of his throat. _Galaxia? Who? What happened? What do you mean? How _–

But he doesn't ask. Not yet, anyway.

"Oh," he says, and he feels as if something is stuck in his throat.

Makoto sighs, deliberately uncurls her fingers, and leans back against her own chair.

"You're looking for Endymion," she tells him, and it's not a question. "But you will not see him – not until we are sure you are not a threat."

She's answered the questions he didn't even ask without prompting. His liege's safe, alive and he's _here_–

(but she's also not answering some questions that he knows she knows is written on his face.)

His throat feels very, very dry.

"We?" he asks instead. His head spins.

_A flash of violet _–

She smiles again, and this time, her smile is kind and a mishmash of sadness and nostalgia, as if she knows what exactly is going on in his head and heart.

"We," she repeats. "But you won't see Rei today, for the same reason you won't see Endymion."

_Rei. Rei. Rei._ It's like a mantra chanting in his head.

A part of him is grateful she told him her _name_, and another part of him – the guardian in him – approves of how she chose not to disclose his prince's name.

"My friends will arrive soon," she says, settling back comfortably. "In the meanwhile, tell me what happened to you."

It's less of a question and more of a command, and reminds him of Sailor Jupiter more than the owner of the quaint cafe he is in right now.

They talk, and he learns that Makoto _does _have her memories from a past lifetime, and when Nephrite (whom he doesn't know is where) is mentioned at one point, her eyes darken.

Then he meets Aino Minako – _Venus_– when thirty minutes passes, and while she isn't openly hostile, she's completely unreadable and quiet, occasionally asking questions that Makoto didn't ask, with a tone that doesn't tell him what she's feeling, and a little more ruthlessly than how Makoto asked things that pierces him.

There is a moment when he nearly stumbles because he's surprised that Minako knows what he had said to Makoto earlier – the latter who looks briefly apologetic which at once told him what happened; Minako had been listening to their conversation through whatever means he isn't aware of.

Still, he tries to answer her questions as best as he could, in part because he does recognize the glint in her blue eyes.

It reminds him of the steel in Kunzite's gaze, and he knows it's not Minako he's speaking to. It's _Venus_.

Mizuno Ami (Mercury) comes in next. She looks almost as calm as Minako, though there are hints of apprehension in her gaze, and tension lining her shoulders. But she doesn't bother hiding the laptop, and continues working on it as their conversation begins anew.

It doesn't surprise him this time that Ami knows about the talk he had with Makoto and Minako.

When he talks about how his memory returns, there's a brief flash of surprise in Ami's gaze and a momentary pause in typing that causes Minako to glance at her.

The cobalt blue-haired woman hesitates, but eventually says, "The time he got his memories back seems to align with when the events with Sailor Galaxia came to an end."

That statement and how quietly she said it reminds him of the shadows in Makoto's gaze when Galaxia was mentioned earlier. It is also more than a little vague, and brings in more questions. It does also make something flicker in Minako's blue eyes. And while it's nondescript, for some reason or another – maybe it's a gut feeling in his stomach – he knows it's a vital point that will help the leader of the Senshi _decide_.

When he mentions his roommate and memories not remembered, it's Ami's gaze that darkens, but there is no noticeable pause in her typing this time.

The mention of Kunzite and the lack of knowledge on where he is bring no reaction from Minako.

And much, much later on, days after the questions and grilling that left him battered and exhausted, it's his prince who punches him in the face and breaks his nose _again_.

. .

4.

He isn't surprised that she sought him out.

He just wishes that it is not this soon, when he had just met his prince – _king _– and had all but prostrated himself before the person he had once sworn himself to, and held out his family's heirloom sword above his head – waiting for him to take the sword from his hand and _strike him down _–

It's all still too raw, _raw_; the way he felt his heart shatter, the pain of betrayal and sadness and forgiveness and _joy _in those regal sapphire eyes –

The person in front of him now shifts a little.

And this pair of blue eyes is a few shades lighter than his liege, but just as regal.

The look that she gives him – it isn't happy. But it's not quite sad either.

There's also an edge of hardness in it, one he isn't familiar with – for there are very little things that could make her still and silent the way she is now.

_(but then again, who is he to know? he knows the innocent girl from a thousand years ago, but not this woman who demands loyalty and love without even having to even ask _–_ )_

All the same, he drops to a knee, and keeps his eyes trained on his feet. His fist, the one not palming his raised knee, is pressed tightly to the cold ground.

He wonders if his hand is trembling, but the guilt and darkness that encompasses him overrides everything else.

"My queen," he says, whispers.

It's a long moment before she speaks, voice soft. Unreadable.

"I know he has forgiven you."

His heart clenches. Unclenches. An invisible chain coils around it tightly, making it hard to breathe.

Something clogs at his throat.

If he's a lesser man than he already is, he would have broken down where he stood – _why why why did he forgive me _–_ He should have struck me down where I stood! He should have _–

"But I can't forgive you the way he has."

He tells himself he should have expected it – he _has_expected it.

But it stings him, all the same, because this is Serenity – or is it _Tsukino_ _Usagi_? – this is _Serenity_, the precious child of the Moon, the child and woman whom he knows, even a millennia ago, had a heart of gold and kindness and still does. It all but shows in her clear blue eyes and look alone, and for her to say _this _–

He knows he's beyond redemption.

His eyes close, but he doesn't speak.

She's silent again.

"And I know you love her," she says after a brief moment.

Her.

_Eyes of dark violet, a curl of lips so slight that the aristocratic smile is barely visible _–

"She loved you, too." It is wistful with memories, the way his queen speaks with heartbreakingly sorrowful and soulful words, but she doesn't tell him if the one he loves still loves him, or if she still thinks of him, or if she _remembers_–

The chain tightens its grip on his heart.

"I watched her break once," and the edge of hardness returns, "I will not see that happen again." (this isn't Usagi speaking, he knows, it's the princess – the _queen_– who expects to see her words obeyed.)

Still, he remains silent. He can almost guess what her next words will be, and he's just waiting for the judgment to fall –

But when she speaks this time, his head jerks up to meet her bright blue eyes, almost certain that his hearing has failed him, and it's all he can do when he stares at her.

It's _Tsukino Usagi _who smiles a brilliant smile that reminds him of the warmth in Elysion.

(_and she may never realize it, but this is also the moment that the guardian in him, battered and broken as he may be, recognizes her as his liege's queen, his kingdom's queen, and the person he would just as easily give his life for as he would his king _–_)_

"Okay?" she asks softly.

He bows his head again, something in his chest squeezing tightly, and feels his eyes blur and _burn._

"As you wish," he whispers.

. .

5.

He stands in front of the stairs to the shrine.

It's the one place he avoided walking to even when he had regained his memories of a past lifetime and _this_ lifetime, and even when he knew that coming here in the first place would have made searching easy.

But now he's here, again, because _Usagi_ had all but shoved him to this place and squeezed his hands encouragingly before leaving.

The warmth of her hands still linger in his closed fists, and just for a little bit, he thinks he can see why his king had fallen head over heels for her, and why the one he loves would die for her in a heartbeat.

He breathes in.

_Sakura _leaves are falling all around him, and the soft autumn breeze that carries the scent of cherry blossom makes him close his eyes. He feels like he could just stand there forever and not care, if it is not for the person he wants (and dreads) to meet at the top.

Then he opens his eyes, and walks up the stairs with measured steps.

The two black crows perched by the entrance of the shrine watches him silently with wise, knowing eyes.

He reaches the top of the stairs, and what he finds there makes him stop dead in his tracks.

For a brief, mindless moment – he doesn't breathe.

. .

6.

She looks like she's been expecting him.

_Has she been expecting him?_

It is her who walks toward him with all the grace of a princess and the air of a royalty as he remains rooted where he stands.

The calm expression on her face gives away nothing; and her eyes, though burning with a kind of fire that she is never, ever without, does not give him any indication of what she feels. It almost rankles, because he, _Jadeite_, was a master of emotions and manipulation once upon a time. It had always been his duty to _observe_, and habits rarely ever change even after a millennium and a heart corrupted by darkness.

For a minute that feels like eternity, they just stand there, eye to eye. She's within his reach, and all he has to do is reach out, to touch her, hold her, to feel the silk black hair sliding between his fingers –

But it's her who moves first.

She reaches up with a hand, and presses a warm palm to his chest, middle, where his heart is.

He sucks in a breath despite himself, half wanting to flinch and back away, and half wanting to envelop her in his arms, but he doesn't move.

For some reason, he doesn't move, because he senses that she needs this. _She needs this_.

He doesn't really know what she's looking for as she scrutinizes the palm she has on his chest, but that doesn't stop him from getting lost in those dark violet eyes that bordered on sapphire blue.

He's also simultaneously aware that one push from her will send him tumbling down the stairs, and one pull from her will bring him to her. Jadeite doesn't know what she will do, and half wishes that she will do the latter.

(he also wishes that she will do the former.)

Finally, she looks up, and into his eyes.

He wants to look away from that penetrating, searching gaze; and it's strange, because once upon a time, he wouldn't have backed down from a hidden challenge that is not a conscious effort from either of them.

But that was then, and this is now.

Her warm hand is still on his chest, and it both comforts and burns him.

He spies a cherry blossom landing silently on her left shoulder, and his finger twitches. He wants to pick it up, or slide it away, but he curls his hand into a fist instead.

"The first time you met me in this lifetime, near this shrine," she says, and it's a voice that's soft and familiar and reminds him of a love that wasn't battered and broken, "do you remember it?"

He wants to say no. "Yes."

Something flickers in her gaze, but she doesn't back away from their eye contact. "I killed you. I didn't remember you then, but I killed you."

She says it so casually, like it is nothing more than a simple statement of fact, and the expression on her face is indescribable – so why is it that he feels as if he's looking at the very image of steel and fragility?

_I killed you._

It makes him want to reach out to her, but he holds himself still.

"I deserve it," he says instead.

He feels her fingers curl on the fabric of his shirt, just a little.

"You had no heartbeat, back then."

That, he didn't know. Or at least, he couldn't tell. He's not sure how she knew that either. Back then, the darkness and _Beryl_ _Beryl Beryl _was all that mattered.

"I..." he stops, then he starts again. "No, " he whispers, somehow sounding young and old at the same time, and the feel of her hand on his chest is like a_ lifeline _– "I don't think I did."

His eyes close.

There are gentle fingers on his face now, and a thumb that brushes against his cheek in a way that felt familiar and unfamiliar; it's all he can do when he stays still and tries not to lean into her touch.

"But you have one now. A heartbeat."

Its words filled with firm conviction, like there's no room for doubt.

"You disagree?" she whispers.

He wants to tell her he doesn't know. "Do I?" he asks instead, and he wonders if the desperation he feels has trickled into his voice. "Do I really have one?"

"Yes," she says simply, warm and sure with certainty, and it feels like _salvation_.

And it's her who curls her hands around his neck, bringing him down and touching her forehead to his.

"Forgive yourself, Jadeite," those soft words is his _undoing_.

He wonders if she is aware that what she just said is a ghost of what Usagi told him some days before.

Then he breathes in the scent of cherry blossom and something that reminds him of _fire fire fire_–

"I love you," he whispers, and his words is raw, _raw_, so raw he can't even tell if he's croaking it out, but he holds her to him like she's all that stops him from breaking.

When he presses his lips to hers, it's as if he's drinking water for the first time in years – _centuries, a millennia _– after being lost in the desert for god knows how long.

And he feels like he can finally hear his own heartbeat again.

.

.

.

A/N - I originally wondered if I should have made the senshi transform before cornering Jadeite rather than using their actual identities. But then I figured that since I've already maneuvered Jadeite to be able to recognize their alter egos, there's not much point in transforming if I'm going for the peaceful route rather than Kill-Jadeite-On-Sight route. Or at least, that would've been the conclusion the senshi come to.

You can also say that this is my first real foray into this fandom...though I'll admit I did write for this fandom before, yeaaaars ago, despite those stuff being deleted later on. Let's hope I didn't screw up characterization as much as I think I did, because it's been way too long, and my memory of the manga is vague at best.

Depending on how well or terrible this is, I may or may not go ahead with writing Rei's version of this story. I've some ideas, but it's nowhere near to being written. Thoughts?


	2. Rei

Part II | Rei Hino | 5216 words  
Post-manga story. There will be spoilers to some degree. Unbeta-ed.  
Theme song: FFVII Crosis Core - _The Price of Freedom._

.

.

.

_**heartbeat**  
In Greek, nostalgia literally means 'the pain of an old wound.'  
It's a twinge in your heart, far more powerful than memory alone._

_(This is what her heart tells her.)_

_. ._

1.

It's like an eruption of chaos, she thinks as she stares at her watch on the table.

"_WHAT?_"

"Did you just say _Jadeite_?" Ami's sharp voice rings from the communicator.

"Yes – "

"Jadeite..." is what Minako murmurs, but her voice is a mix of half-surprise and half...something_ else_; though she doesn't think the rest detected it the way she did.

"He should be dead!"

"Yes, that's what I thought too, but he's sitting here in _my_ cafe right now!"

"But that – how could that even – ! We – "

"Rei," Minako's voice cut in suddenly, clear and sharp enough that any and all protests from Ami died on her tongue. "Rei. Respond."

Silence.

"_Rei._"

Still, no response.

And Minako stops waiting. "Ami, I want you to go over to the shrine now. And keep tabs on Usagi's and Mamoru's locations."

"On it," is the hurried and worried response, and she hears the sound of books and papers shuffling –

"Makoto – I'm coming over. Keep the line open." There's a moment when her leader briefly considers the situation. "I'm assuming he's not being hostile."

"...No, he's not," the tallest senshi says eventually. "He's..." There's uncertainty in her voice. "He's not...he – he doesn't look corrupted anymore, Minako. And he recognizes me."

More silence.

"You are giving him a chance." Maybe it's the way Minako says it, so simply and matter-of-fact, but it takes Rei a moment to realize that it's less of a question and more of a statement that her leader is directing at Makoto.

The shuffling of books from one end of the communicator stops.

Rei thinks that Ami has frozen in her tracks as the blue-haired genius stares at her watch.

"Yes," is the eventual, quiet response that cuts through the thick silence. "I am giving him a chance."

She feels her mind go blank.

Ami is completely silent, and it's Minako who lets out a slow, long breath that can be heard through the communicator. Makoto speaks no further, and it's a deathlike quietude that blankets all of them.

And for reasons that completely escapes her, the oddest sensation of something curling tight in her chest makes it hard to breathe.

It's unbearable, this silence.

Her fingers curls into a fist, and she forces her mouth to work. "Ami should go to the cafe too."

An even longer silence.

She has never felt a silence that spoke the volumes and questions this one did.

"Scan him," she says, her words strangely calm and clear even to herself. "See if he's still...corrupted."

She can almost see Ami hesitate. "I can do that," her blue-haired friend says finally, though the worry in her voice is so very clear, "but, Rei – "

"I'm fine," she cuts in. "Go. This is important."

Ami doesn't refute that, but Rei can sense the indecision radiating from the watch.

It's her leader who breaks the silence this time.

"Come to the cafe, Ami," Minako's tone is clear with an order.

"...Yes."

"And Rei – "

"I'm going to do some fire reading." Her words are coming out sharper than she intended, she knows.

Silence.

She wonders if Minako is going to say something she doesn't want to hear.

She hopes that her leader and best friend won't, because she's getting the strongest feeling that Minako knows exactly what is going on in her head and heart, and she doesn't want the blonde anywhere near them _right now_.

"Okay," her friend agrees. "See what the fire has to say about him. And keep the line open. If you want. We will update you on this either way."

Her eyes close involuntarily, and she releases a breath she didn't realize she was holding.

"Okay," she says, not sure and not wanting to know if there's a crack in her calm tone. "Be careful, all of you."

She settles back in her chair, and even as she continues to listen to the conversation between her fellow comrades that grows more rapid, she says no more.

And when she hears Jadeite's voice through the communicator, a smooth timbre yet seemingly so weary and old beyond his years –

Her hand slams down on the communicator to shut it off.

. .

2.

The fire tells her nothing.

It flickers and crackles as the wood blocks beneath it grow a bright orange, but it remains staunchly silent.

A sigh reaches her ears, and it's not from herself.

She refuses to look.

"Rei," the intruder says, "Can we talk?"

She doesn't speak.

Then a hand presses against her shoulder gently, but it's like a sharp jerk to her and she whips around to glare at the unflinching summer blue eyes belonging to her leader and best friend.

"You knew," her voice is like ice, and a part of her wants to take back what she's saying right now, but she _can't_. "You _knew_."

There's something like weary humor and resignation in those blue eyes that only someone too old would have, and the play of fire creating dark and light patterns soaks into Minako's features, coloring her skin a dim orange hue.

"I suspected," Minako corrects gently; there's no traces of hurt in her gaze despite Rei's harsh words – but she knows better. _She knows better_.

She takes in a deep breath, then realizes that her friend didn't actually refute her accusation.

Her brows dip downward. "Since when?"

The blonde settles back on the floor, beside her,but while Rei's facing the fire, Minako's the opposite.

"Since we were revived." A momentary pause, and Minako rests her chin on raised knees. "Or should I say resurrected?" Something like a puzzled frown grows in that voice. "...Reborn?"

Then the blonde huffs. "Hell if I know which is it since Galaxia threw all of us into that – whatever pool it is before Usagi brought us back, and with our memories along for the ride."

She's saying it in a tone that Rei has long since recognized is meant to be deceivingly light and humored.

And quite that suddenly, the soldier of fire gets the feeling that Jadeite is just a small part of everything that her leader's been suspecting. Or thinking of.

"Ami mentioned it, didn't she?" Minako asks, not quite to her, but to the quiet room in general. "That the cause had been the pool itself and something about whatever things in us getting unsealed at the same time, since we've all been literally _melted_, blah blah blah and stars getting reborn – "

Her friend stops abruptly.

Rei's frown deepens.

"Minako – "

"And then I started to wonder," Minako interrupts. "Did Galaxia get her hands on Mamoru's guardians, too?"

The fire crackles warmly, but she feels ice in her veins that stops her cold.

"Mamoru was the first among us who got taken," her friend points out casually.

_Taken_.

Rei stares at Minako, whose face is hidden by long, flowing golden locks of hair that are tinted orange by the fire. There is a still, heavy air around her that speaks volumes about the dark memories that have been dug open and replayed one by one.

_(she still remembers the day when she feels her crystal being ripped out of her as she disintegrates into nothing _–_ )_

Her eyes close as she tries to do away with the memory that haunts her at the back of her mind.

"So is it not so strange," Minako continues quietly, tone unreadable, "to think that his guardians had been there, too, in the pool?"

It's really all Rei can do when she doesn't speak.

His guardians, in the pool, _with them_?

Then, the blonde tilts sideways – literally – and rests her head on Rei's arm, just a little below the shoulder, and she automatically shifts to accommodate the new weight, a palm now pressing on the floor as she moves them both to a position less awkward and less likely to make them fall into the fire.

Somehow, it ends with the top of Minako's head resting on her collarbone, with her free arm being taken captive by her leader as hands curl around it. It's still a little awkward, this position, but it's also familiar and strangely comforting.

And Minako has all but leaned further into her and trusts her to keep them sitting.

The priestess contemplates trying to take her hand back. But while the grip Minako has on her arm isn't tight, her multiple experiences with Minako tells her that it takes far less energy to just let the blonde do what she wants rather than trying to remove her arm, verbally or physically.

So Rei lets it be, but not without a small huff; and there is a heartbeat of comfortable silence between the two of them.

Then Minako's soft voice rings in the stillness.

"If," she says, "and I'm saying _if_, they are back for good and to protect Mamoru, I don't have anything against them being here, because we all know how much an idiot the prince can be at times."

It almost makes Rei smile, those words, but it's a question leaves her mouth before she can stop it.

"You don't have anything against them being here?"

Silence.

"I do," her leader admits eventually, a hint of something rueful in her tone.

"But?"

"Usagi doesn't."

It's so simple, the way she says it, like it's all the reason they need to accept them back.

Rei can't really argue with that.

Then, the warm hands holding her arm captive curls around it tighter.

And when her friend takes a long, slow breath – suppressing a shudder and trying to ease some of the tension that had built up without Rei noticing – she finds herself frowning.

"Minako?"

A beat of silence.

"I do mean it, you know," her friend says then, "that if they are here to protect and guide the prince, I could – at least try."

_For Usagi_, are the unsaid words hanging in the air.

"But?" she asks softly.

The fire in front of her crackles, warm and bright in the darkness of the room.

"I just don't know if the pool has melted away Beryl's claws on them."

The sensation that goes down her spine at those words –

It's like ice.

. .

3.

Cherry blossoms fall all around her.

She breathes in the clean scent of air that marks the end of spring and the beginning of autumn, and it makes her close her eyes.

A crow lands on her shoulder.

Rei glances at it.

"Phobos," she whispers, recognizing it immediately, and smiles faintly.

The crow preens, and she brushes against its beak gently.

Deimos flutters close too, demanding attention, and she lifts an arm for it to land on.

Usagi – who had dragged her out of the fire reading room in the name of getting fresh air – hasn't said anything, but she's looking curiously at the birds, and even goes as far as to reach out to Phobos with a finger, seemingly not afraid at all.

She's rewarded with a slight, affectionate peck from the one sitting on her shoulder.

The smile on Usagi's face grows.

"It has been a while," her princess says softly, "hasn't it, Phobos? Deimos?"

The two birds caw in agreement.

Rei smiles too, a genuine one that she hasn't felt forming in a while.

"You used to play with them all the time on the moon," Rei murmurs, remembering. Her twin guardians didn't usually like anyone aside from herself, but Serenity – and the senshi, to a lesser degree – had always been an exception.

Usagi grins. "We had a lot of fun too."

"Yes," Rei deigns it necessary to say in a very, very dry tone, "with _pranks_."

The blonde sticks out a tongue at her childishly. "You were just no fun back then, Rei."

Rei's amusement grows as she stares pointedly at the tongue. "Are you sure you are twenty-one and going to be married soon, Usagi?"

Predictably, the bride-to-be scowls.

The soldier of fire snorts.

In the meanwhile, Deimos caws again, flaps her wings, and flies; bored and probably intent on finding a mouse somewhere. Phobos follows suit, and Rei watches them fly in the sky for a moment, until the trees hide them from view.

"They used to play pranks on Jadeite too, didn't they?" Usagi asks softly, still, like her, watching the place where the crows had disappeared.

She stiffens, but her response is neutrally calm. "Oh?"

A cherry blossom falls from a nearby tree and brushes against the back of her tense palm.

"Feigning," her princess says then, gentle and uncharacteristically quiet, "is unbecoming of you, Rei."

She has to force herself to stop from flinching at those words. Those words, she knows, are less of Usagi and more of the queen who will be the leader of Crystal Tokyo, wise and altruistic beyond her years.

The blonde reaches out to her then, grasping her hand, and she's suddenly looking into bright blue eyes that are both compassionate and seemingly reading right into her soul.

"Do you still love him, Rei?"

She stares at the other, half in disbelief that Usagi would so bluntly ask the question where others had trod so carefully around save for Minako, and half astounded because she hadn't expected it from her.

It would have been so much easier to brush aside the question, had it been anyone else.

But this isn't just anyone, is it now?

A sharp gust of wind, and the cries of crows in distance, drowns out her answer.

. .

4.

Mamoru asks to talk to her.

For all intents and purposes, Rei can't say that she's very surprised. She has a few suspicions on why he wants to talk to her, but she also trusts Usagi enough to believe that she had not divulged anything about the conversation they had, so that can't be one of them.

And while she doesn't hate the prince, and knows he is a good man – albeit an idiot in a male way, sometimes – that does not necessarily mean she likes him any more than as a distant friend.

There are also dredges of loyalty that she does feel for him, and his life is one that she will prioritize over her own without question – but that is all there is to it.

Mamoru sips at his coffee.

Rei watches the few pigeons nearby peck at the ground where seeds had been thrown by a stranger and where cherry blossoms are scattered, and feels the cold breeze that's comforting against the afternoon sun.

"I think," he says finally, breaking the silence since drinks were ordered, "that you know why I want to talk to you."

She purses her lips, but doesn't reply. Let Mamoru take her response as he will.

The prince doesn't seem affected, and it's another pause before he speaks again.

"I felt them. When we – after the events with Galaxia," there's a hint of something _dark_ in his voice at the mention of _that name_, but there is also more wonder, and something that felt wistful, "I started...sensing their presence."

Rei doesn't deign it necessary to speak yet, but she's watching him carefully, now.

"I didn't realize what that feeling was then," he says quietly, staring into his cup of coffee, "But now...now I do. All it took was for me to see Jadeite."

_And they are all coming back to me now, my brothers and friends, _he doesn't tell her, but she hears it anyway, and she also sees the _yearning_ in his eyes –

He takes in a deep breath, looks up into the sky, then closes his eyes as if he's listening to something.

"Elysion is waiting for them to return, too," he whispers, the soft tone of his voice a mismatch of wonder and longing and sadness.

Rei's not familiar with Elysion, even though she's heard of it and knows it's a sacred place for Mamoru, and for this planet they live on now. She also knows that Usagi has been there, before, and can only imagine what sort of place it is.

But if it is anything like what she feels for _Mars_, she thinks she can understand why the prince is reacting this way. It's like how she feels the pull and tugging on her heart, the distant singing of her planet that reaches out to her soul; a place where it is warm and scorching hot in the day, then ice and cold till your breath mists over in the night –

"I have forgiven them," he tells her, eyes of royal blue now fixed on her, "and I know that I can't ask you to do the same."

She doesn't visibly react.

"But," he goes on to say, voice quiet, and with a gaze that reminds her of Usagi's, "if it helps you any – _any at all_ – " to _decide_, he doesn't say, but Rei hears it anyway – "Elysion would not be waiting for them if their bond had been ripped the way it was a thousand years ago."

_When Beryl had her claws on them_, Minako's voice whispers in her mind.

"He has pledged to me, again," the prince murmurs to her, soft and laden with emotions, "But I know...I know he can't pledge his heart again. His heart belongs to another."

Silence fills the air, and there is something momentous and unsaid in his gaze.

The pigeons, previously scattered on the ground as they pecked for seeds, are the ones that break the silence when they fly off into the sky, the cries and the flapping of wings reaching her ears.

There is another beat of silence before she speaks for the first time.

And it almost feels inane, the way she phrases her soft question that carries in the still air –

"Is that so?"

The prince – _her_ prince – looks her in the eye, and something like compassion and sadness and understanding swirls in the depths of his gaze, and it makes her heart ache.

"Yes," he answers simply. "It is."

_( _–_ and just when was it that the distinctive line between thinking of him as _the_ prince and _her_ prince had blurred that she hadn't noticed _–_ ) _

She closes her eyes, breathes in the scent of the afternoon chill, and feels a ghost-like wind that feels more like memories brushing against her skin.

. .

5.

Days later, Usagi says to her, very simply, that she is bringing him over to the shrine.

Rei thinks it's less of a warning and more of a fact that Usagi's trying to tell her , that this...this meeting, this _reunion_, is something that will eventually happen, regardless of whether she wants it or not.

And she doesn't know if she's ready for this.

She remembers Minako placing a hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently, with a quiet, somber gaze that spoke of too much and too little all at once, carrying neither enmity nor good will, only things that had been and _will be_.

Then there is Mamoru – Mamoru, who eyed her with apprehensive hope, a mismatch of understanding and frustration, sadness and joy, and everything out and in between.

And she remembers the look Usagi gave her. It hadn't been happy, but it wasn't exactly sad either. But there was trust, faith and _strength_ and – whenever was it that her princess who used to cry so much became so _strong_?

_(then Galaxia and Cosmos flash past her mind and it's like ice in her veins and encroaching darkness _–_ )_

Her eyes close at the memories.

Soft wind blows, carrying the scent of the cherryblossoms , and the sound of rustling tree leaves reaches her ears.

Nearby, her twin guardians watch quietly as a young man in his twenties begins his trek up a long set of stairs, his shoulders heavy with invisible burdens and his blue eyes speaking of something too old and worn with desperate struggles to stay afloat.

And she knows he is approaching.

She can feel it in her soul.

. .

6.

She sees him.

And despite herself, despite the fact that she told herself she wasn't expecting anything, she is surprised at what she sees.

The man she remembers – the _guardian_ that she knows with her heart – is a person who is confident and proud. Someone whose gaze pierces too easily, reads too easily, and understands too quickly. Someone who is wholly strong in his own right, physically and emotionally; a respected leader of his kingdom in the east of this planet, once upon a time.

He is not any of them anymore.

And he's watching her, apprehensively.

Perhaps it's the muted grief in his eyes that makes her walk towards him. Or maybe it's the way his broad shoulders seem to have hunched slightly when they would (should) be squared, though she doesn't think anyone else would notice.

She doesn't really know, and doesn't really care, save for the vague sensation of some kind of invisible chain coiling tight around her heart.

Then there's a second, when she finally comes to a stop, that she wonders for the second time in her two lifetimes – just how, exactly, did Beryl get her hands on this man who was one of the most fiercely loyal people she knew?

There had been nothing save for _darkness_ that night when Silver Millennium had been at the brink of destruction, when they traded blows far too hard and vicious to be considered friendly sparring anymore, when he watched her with a gaze that held no recognition and was nothing but _ice_ –

It was the moment when she knew he was lost to his kingdom, to his prince, and to her.

It was when she had stopped hesitating.

It was when she had moved, fast because she knew she had the advantage of speed while his was physical power, swift enough that she knew he wouldn't be able to avoid it, and when she pooled magic into her palm –

The invisible chain coils more tightly around her heart.

She remembers it like it happened not an hour before; the way her palm had pressed against his chest as she released her power, even as she still searched for a familiar heartbeat she _couldn't_ feel, the warmth she couldn't sense, and as fire flared to life –

However is it that Beryl managed corrupt him to the degree he no longer recognized any of them, least of all the prince?

Then it occurs to her, and it almost makes her breath catch with its implications.

The crystals.

Their hearts.

If _Galaxia _could take their crystals and manipulate it the way she had, then – _then_ –

There was a brief conversation she had with Ami once, a long time ago, when they had just found their powers, and when they had no idea who the princess of the moon was. Her friend, with furrowed brows and a pensive look, had told her that their enemies were not living beings. They didn't breathe, and they had no heartbeat.

Rei had wondered if Ami told her this for her own benefit. While they hadn't thought much about it, when no memories burdened their mind, they had been young.

Young and afraid and mere children that had been forced out into the wild and the dangerous with half-baked instructions by a guardian cat who didn't even have all her memories.

It would not have surprised her if Ami told her this to ease her mind.

And while she knows better, now, that Ami didn't tell her that _just_ for her benefit, that Ami was being honest when she said _he_ had no heartbeat – that doesn't mean the thought didn't linger.

Had she not been the first among the Senshi to kill an enemy – _Jadeite_ – that looked too _human_?

She killed him.

Twice.

She can almost feel her teeth beginning to grind against each other at the memory, and tore her thoughts away from that.

Jadeite had no heartbeat – with his crystal corrupted the way hers had been by Galaxia, perhaps – when she first met him in this lifetime.

And does he now?

She presses a hand against his chest, feels him suck in a breath, but ignores his surprise in favor of the warmth she can_ feel_.

It's there.

Oh Selene, it's _there_.

She looks up, and into his blue eyes, a shade darker than Minako's.

His gaze is solemn, quiet, and expectant.

The feel of his heartbeat and an innate strength she recognizes as _Jadeite's _makes her want to slump in _relief_, because while Rei doesn't know what she would've done if he didn't have one, _Mars_ knows that it would have been the moment she pooled magic into her palm again, regardless of all the sadness and anger it will bring her prince and princess, even when she knows that she will be killing him for a _third time _–

"The first time you met me in this lifetime, near this shrine," she says to him suddenly, "Do you remember it?"

Something like surprise flickers in his gaze, but he responds.

His answer is just as quiet as his gaze, and it reverberates through his chest. "Yes."

His tenor is a mishmash of something rough and broken, sad but so, so _familiar_ and it makes something in her _ache_.

"I killed you." She doesn't know if her voice has cracks in it. "I didn't remember you back then, but I killed _you_."

_(and if I need to kill you a third time, fourth time, fifth time, I'll still do it. Because if you are a danger to my princess, no gods or demons will save you from my hands, I swear, even if I have to destroy myself in the process, Jadeite _– _ )_

She barely stops herself from shuddering out a breath, and it takes her a moment to realize that he's watching her like he's waiting for her to condemn him.

"I deserve it," he says to her quietly. It makes her wonder if he knows what thoughts just ran through her mind, if he means that he's submitting to her judgment, if he's willing to die by her hands _again _–

It makes her want to hit him.

As it is, her palm on his chest had curled into his shirt, just a little.

But she can still feel the heartbeat, and just a little bit, it cools her temper.

She breathes in, slow and deep, and keeps her palm pressed to the rhythmic beating of his chest.

She doesn't know why it has a strange, calming effect on her.

"You had no heartbeat, back then," she tells him, as if making casual conversation.

He seems to startle at that.

Then his brows furrows, and the expression on his face grows pensive.

"I... " A pause. Then, "No," his voice drops to a whisper. "I don't think I did."

She watches him close his eyes, as if trying to do away with memories that threaten to drown him, with a hard, set jaw and shoulders that tremble faintly –

It makes her want to reach out to him, and she does, running a thumb against the lines of his jaw in a way that she had done once upon a time, before brushing against the roughness of his face –

When he barely leans into her touch, it's as if he's trying not to. And this is also the moment when she gets the strongest feeling that whatever she says next will make or break him.

And this is why she speaks, despite all the doubts and _memories_ that lurk at the back of her mind, despite all that threatens to overwhelm her; because Beryl is no more, her claws along with the witch – and all that remains is a man broken by his own guilt and darkness.

"But you have one now," she tells him in the surest voice she can manage. "A heartbeat."

He looks at her in disbelief, and it almost makes her give him a wry smile.

"You disagree?" she asks him, and wonders if the sadness and brief humor she feels has bled into her words.

He can't seem to decide if he does or not.

"Do I?" he questions instead, voice a whisper, hoarse and strangled. "Do I really have _one_?"

He almost sounds as if he's a lost child looking and longing for the warmth of sunlight.

And perhaps, she can't help but think, perhaps, he really is one.

"Yes," she says instead, her voice as certain as it was a moment ago.

The expression on his face then – it makes her feel as if her heart has been grasped tightly in an ethereal fist, and it makes her reach out to him once more; bringing him down and touching her forehead to his, in a way that her mother did for her when she still lived, and in a way that had comforted her too many times to count when her father made her upset.

"Forgive yourself, Jadeite," she whispers, words coming out of their own accord before she even realized what she'd just said to him.

But maybe she's telling him what he needed to hear, because he lets out a shuddering breath, and then he's holding her to him tightly; it's familiar and comforting in indescribable ways that feel like a ghost of what they had been and _could have become_.

And when he tells her he loves her, with a voice that is raw and afraid and trembling with emotions, her heart aches for him and for a broken love that she knows is far from being mended.

The words she would have said about them and the future are swallowed when he presses his lips to hers.

Then there is a moment – the barest of a second – when she feels her breath catch and something like frost settling on her shoulders, feels the involuntary tensing of her own muscles as she unconsciously curls the hand she has on his chest into a tight fist; some instinct deep in her warning her that this isn't – this can't – this _thing _between them – _she can't let this happen again._

But it's only for a moment.

He tastes like faded memories, bittersweet and something too archaic and fragile to name, indistinct but familiar and comforting yet strange; it makes her flatten her palm against his shirt once more.

The heartbeat she can feel reverberating through his chest seems too much like a soothing balm on an open wound that has festered for far too long, and a part of her that thinks it shouldn't be that way.

It really shouldn't.

And she doesn't know what will become of them now that it has come to this.

But maybe, maybe, it's a start. It's a start of some sort, and while there is nothing she is sure about this the way she had been a lifetime ago, she knows that the hatred and darkness that once lingered in this man is no longer.

Beryl is no more, Metallia is no more, and there is Crystal Tokyo in the near future to dread and look forward to.

It's...a start.

.

.

.

A/N: ...Due to unforeseen inspiration, this is no longer a one-shot. Woo?

This one was written prior to the Shitennou Ficathon 2012 and...yes. It's been probably a little less than a year since I first wrote this. It had slipped my mind since then due to other matters taking precedence, but...well. Finally got around to fixing errors and such, so hopefully it's good enough for public consumption.

Minako's coming up next. Do stay tuned.


End file.
